


Breathing Him In

by gypsiangel



Series: Healing [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Happy Ending, Hearing Damaged Percival Graves, Hurt Newt, Hurt/Comfort, I couldn't help bringing Theseus into this crazy, M/M, Plot with porn (because I just can't leave it alone)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 02:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9269012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsiangel/pseuds/gypsiangel
Summary: Percival didn't know if he would ever get the sight of the blood splatter out of his head, the bright, bright red of it blossoming and flying with the force of the curse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because you guys are fucking amazing and I couldn't let this thing drop, here's another one! Thank you soooooo much for all the kudos and comments on the first go round. Here's hoping you like this one just as well. This might just become a thing... <3 Cheers!

*~*~*

            _“I’m going to fucking kill him! Son of a bloody bitch, you picked the wrong goddamn brother!”_ Percival didn’t need to actually hear the bellowing to know that Theseus Scamander had finally made it through customs and had been escorted to the med-ward at the MACUSA headquarters. He leaned against the closed door that led into his partner’s temporary room and crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Red-faced and furious, the ginger brute shrugged off any and all attempts to calm him- or at least quiet him.

             He was on par with Newt on height, Percival noted, seeing the similarities and the differences between his friend and his love now that he’d seen them near each other. Theseus never tried to make himself look harmless- quite the opposite actually. In their line of work, imposing and sometimes downright frightening was a boon. He was much broader than their magizooligist, though he was still rather lanky. And the freckles, dear God, the freckles that Percival had poked fun at when they were younger weren’t even close to being as attractive, though they were very, very similar to the ones he mapped out with his mouth whenever he had a chance.

             When his old friend caught sight of him, the impressive scowl melted just a little and Percival braced himself. There were a few different ways this could pan out, and knowing Theseus, it could be a bit of everything, and a mix of it all. He knew about Percival’s involvement with his little brother through owl post, responding with a resounding, _‘About time, mate! When will we be expecting pups, then? No, disregard that. Well, if you_ do _manage it somehow, do_ not _tell me the process, and I expect at least one of them to be named after me. In all seriousness, though, Percy, take care of him. He’s a right nutter that has no self-preservation.’_

             This was the first time they’d had a chance to see each other face to face since then. And Percy had failed to keep Newt safe. Familiar amber-green eyes glinted, then Theseus was charging toward him. Bracing for impact, he was surprised when he was gathered up in a spine-cracking embrace. When he automatically returned the hug, he realized that his friend was trembling. He gripped Theseus’s shoulders and gently disengaged, eyeing his expression warily. _“He’s okay, Theseus. I did what I could, then the mediwitches came in and did more. He’s resting now. If he wasn’t all right, would I be standing out here in the hallway, waiting for your over dramatic ass?”_ Over the last few months, Percival had tried to modulate his speech with Newt’s help, and by focusing on the vibrations, he felt like he was finally able to communicate verbally without it feeling like he was either shouting or whispering.

_“Next time, I want you to send the post, Perce.”_ Theseus closed his eyes and tipped his head back, breathing in deep and then letting it out slowly. _“Whoever this Goldstein person is, they made it seem like my brother was gutted and missing pieces."_

            Well, Tina hadn’t been exaggerating by much, and Percival would rather kiss the erumpet’s backside than to tell him that. It would come out soon enough, it could just wait until after Theseus saw for himself that his baby brother was all in one piece and well into recovery. As it was, Percival was going to have a hard enough time sleeping without nightmares for the foreseeable future. Exhaustion pulled at him and he leaned into his old friend, a bit of the low-level anxiety that had been humming under his skin since _it_ happened easing now that he had someone he trusted implicitly to not only have his back, but to have Newt’s well-being as ultimate priority around.

             He wasn’t sure if he would ever forget the sight of the cutting hex hitting Newt across his chest and stomach in a macabre design that had to of been a signature move developed by the dark wizard they’d been hunting. He wasn’t supposed to have been there. _Percival_ wasn’t supposed to have been there. It had been a fucking fluke, nothing more. Goldstein… Tina… had panicked when their raid had gone south and sent an urgent patronus flying straight to Percival’s office, where Newt had been bringing him afternoon ‘tea’. When Percival had grabbed his coat and flew into action, he hadn’t had time to convince his stubborn ass of a partner to stay where he was.

             As for Newt, Percival couldn’t very well fault him for not letting him fly off with a handful of green aurors barely out of training that had no idea that their fearless leader only worked the field with a select group of highly advanced, specifically trained operatives. It was Seraphina’s hard line when it came to letting her director out of the offices. Either he trained with a hand-picked squad and developed a method of non-verbal combat communication and tactics to keep him from getting obliterated, or he stayed right where he was at. In the end, it hadn’t even been much of a choice, really. After a token growl, he’d conceded that it was a good idea. A good idea that was so successful that he’d taken the initiative to implement the same training for all of his aurors.

             Unfortunately, it was still in its early stages and he’d been left with junior operatives that barely knew their dicks from their wands. And Newt had paid the price.

            _“Hey,”_ Theseus pulled back, making sure that Percival was actually looking at him. His handsome face was pale and scrunched with worry. _“You’re all right, Graves. Newt’s all right. No one else took a serious hit, according to Goldstein. You have that bird trained well, she sent me a full report of what happened and the aftermath. Her delivery needs a bit of work, but it was thorough. I_ am _going to hex him into next Tuesday when he’s well enough for pulling such a bloody stupid move.”_

Newt had taken the curse meant for Percival. He’d dived before anyone could react, flinging his long, lanky body in front of a fucking modified _sectumsempra_. Thank Merlin it hadn’t been well modified. It was more for maximum dramatics and hurled by a mediocre wizard minion that thought he had something to prove.

             After a moment, Percival nodded and pulled away, reaching for the door to let them into the private room. Sometimes being the Director of Magical Security had its benefits.

*~*~*

            _“Percival, if you don’t put me down and give me a little space, I may do something rash.”_ Newt’s hands flew through the air, the motions curt and filled with irritation. He’d been home for three days and hadn’t been given a moment of peace since. Between his brother, the Goldstein sisters, Jacob, and Percival himself, he’d been nearly smothered with attention and well-meaning hovering. For a natural introvert that hated being fussed over, it got incredibly old, incredibly fast. Percival almost felt bad about it. Almost.

            He knew from experience how frustrating it could be for people to go overboard with concerned pampering. Unfortunately, Newt wasn’t as good as Percival at being an insufferable bastard with a death glare that could freeze a lesser person from twenty paces. Where Director Graves had the hard-ass reputation that didn’t invite any sort of coddling, Newt Scamander exuded the lost little boy countenance that had people falling over themselves to take care of him. When they weren’t tearing their hair out and trying to find a way to stick a permanent cushioning charm around him, that is. Or trying to find him, seeing that he had the uncanny way of making himself scarce if something was wrong with him. This time around, he’d been relegated to bed rest and hadn’t had the opportunity to disappear.   

            Right now, they had the house to themselves. Theseus had been lured away by the prospect of a muggle speakeasy and a double date with an uncharacteristically bold Tina and a mischievous Queenie and Jacob. The younger Goldstein had winked at him as she’d herded the others out of the home. Sometimes it wasn’t so bad having a legilimens around, especially one with such a wicked mindset.

            Percival had taken the opportunity with both hands, so to speak, and scooped up his now very perturbed lover that was very obviously reaching the end of his considerable patience. He tightened his hold when Newt tried to squirm around and sent a sultry smirk down at him. The angry pout was disappearing fast as he realized Percy’s intention, replaced with a charming flush and the heat in his eyes going a completely different direction.

            When they reached the bedroom, Percival eased him down so that his feet were on the ground, but their bodies were still pressed intimately together. This was the first time they’d really been alone together for nearly two weeks, and now that he had Newt to himself he realized how much he’d needed the energies to slow down too. Despite the spacious nature of his home, it had been crowded and… noisy. Despite, or because of, his deafness, Percival’s other senses had heightened to compensate- and that meant his magical senses as well.

              Queenie had explained one morning while they were taking coffee in his office before their morning really got started. By nature, wizards were never truly bereft of defenses, and your hearing was definitely a defense. No-maj accomplished this too, though on a different level. Of course, Percy’s body automatically adjusted to the missing sense, but his magic took it a bit further. Which explained why he’d started recognizing magic signatures more acutely, and reading someone’s intentions by their energy spikes. It had started making him jumpy and for a while, he was more than happy to shut himself up in his office at MACUSA and leave only for mandatory meetings and to go home.

                Again, his now irreplaceable secretary had come to his rescue and taught him some of the shielding techniques that she’d discovered over the years. He was still learning the finer degrees of blocking out only certain things at certain times. Right now, the shields were either up or down. Unfortunately he didn't feel comfortable enough leaving them up all the time while he was at work, just because of sheer paranoia. But when it became too much and he knew he was in a safe place, he slammed them up and everything was quiet again. With a household of familiar (friendly) top level wizards on high alert and still worried about Newt, and Newt annoyed and itching to get away from them all, and the creatures out of sorts because their ‘mummy’ was off, those shields had been near worthless.

                But here, right now, with Newt blinking at him with those liquid eyes filled with arousal, he let everything drop away. Immediately shuddering as Newt’s bright, sometimes manic magic flowed over him, Percival buried his hands in that unruly mop, gipped hard, and brought their mouths together. Lust surged as it usually did when they touched like this, heightened by the awareness that he’d very nearly lost… The second that thought crossed his mind, Percival clutched him harder, emotions he’d been holding back flooding forward.

                 He felt hot and cold all at the same time and he buried his face in Newt’s neck, unable to do anything but hold tight and breathe in the warm, almost woodsy scent. He felt the vibration of Newt’s words against his face and the firm stroke of fingers through his hair and a palm easing up and down his spine. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really cried. The time under Grindlewald’s power didn’t count in his books; that had been an entirely different form of agony. Tears of relief, of worry, of anger, and fear flowed freely now and he was dimly aware that he was being guided to the bed, where thinly muscled arms held him close.

                  He surrounded himself with his partner, wrapping his own energy around that bright light he always associated with Newt. It intertwined, twisting and flowing, encompassing and dancing. Soothing, loving, _healing_. Percival felt his chest heave as he sucked in a heavy breath, and Newt was kissing him, pushing him back against the cool sheets. The energy changed, going electric and familiar as it went from his core to nerve endings. Clothing disappeared and was replaced by hot, open-mouthed kisses, licks, and sucks.

                  Percival opened his eyes to see literal sparks of light floating above their bed and wondered if he was losing his mind. Then he didn’t think at all as talented lips took him in. Fingers bit into his thighs, harsh and bruising as Newt sucked him down hard and fast. He barely had enough time to buck his hips before he was coming like a fourth year stuck in a closet with a girl for the first time.

                  It did nothing to ease his desire and he dimly wondered what was going on. He wasn’t a young man anymore; no matter how much he wanted it, recovery time wasn’t even close to being this fast. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Percival took advantage and flipped Newt onto his back. He froze over the younger man and just looked, taking in the flushed, freckled skin and pouty features. Heavy lidded green eyes seemed more amber in the dim light, and auburn curls were suitably mussed. His eyes took in the nasty, newly added welted scar that crossed from just below his shoulder joint, to the middle of his chest, then up to the other shoulder, and back down to his hip, across his lower belly to end at the opposite hip. Blood running cold, Percival felt for a moment like the world spun as he was reminded once again how close he’d come to losing the most important person in his life.

                 Hands were on his face then, cupping his jaw and cheeks, grounding him to the moment. He looked down and was met by a tremulous, beautiful smile. _“I’m right here, Percy. I’m all right, safe and whole.”_

_“But you almost weren’t.”_

                   Newt drew him closer, leaving enough room so Percival could read his lips, _“That doesn’t matter, love. I’m here now, I’m all right now. I love you.”_

                   Percival closed his eyes then and pushed the rest of the way down, rubbing the side of his face against Newt’s. He buried his nose into the skin underneath his ear and breathed in unsteadily. The body under him shuddered and he could feel the answering breath against the side of his head. They stayed like that for a moment, then Percival moved, his hand running down their sides and further to grip Newt’s leg just under his knee, then he pulled and gave himself room to nestle his hips between his partner’s thighs.

                   He braced himself on his elbows, checking to see if he was squashing or hurting, because as much as he wanted this, his priority was Newt’s comfort. Newt, for his part, opened his legs further with an enthusiastic groan that was conveyed beautifully between the line of their bodies. _“Percy, please. Please, I need you. Darling, don’t worry, just… just…”_ Words stopped and teeth bit into his flush lower lip as Percival gripped their lengths together and stroked firmly. Soon, they were both moving, hips grinding and pumping in a rhythm that was very familiar and effective. Both of Newt’s hands gripped Percival’s shoulders, nails biting in as they rutted against each other.

                    One hand braced against the mattress, Percival kept his eyes on Newt’s face as they sped toward climax. He didn’t want to miss anything. As he changed his grip, shifting his lover’s hips up so that the friction was more potent on other bits, he felt electricity jolt across his skin. Mouth open in a wordless cry, Newt spilled first, his release coating Percy’s fingers and the extra stimulation pushed him over the edge with a growled shout.

                    As they slowly came back down, Percival tried to roll off of Newt, scared that he really would put too much pressure on the mostly healed slashes. Newt wasn’t having any of it. _“Stay right where you are, Percy.”_ He didn’t even open his eyes, just reached up and pulled with a steady pressure until Percival gradually relaxed and covered him again, shifting down so that he could bury his face in the hollow where shoulder met collarbone. When he shifted a little lower and pressed his ear over Newt’s heart, he could actually _feel_ the steady thudding, and he finally relaxed.

                  Newt was there, he was all right, safe and whole. Percival finally believed it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you guys were wondering, dialog is in italics because these are from Percival's POV and his form of communication is different (either with sign or lip-reading)


End file.
